Ah, the media. Nicely lambasted at this latest literary festival in Jaipur, slightly grilled by the wit that Salman Rushdie never leaves home without, and royally skewered by the organisers' perception that it's better not to tread on too many toes, or rather not to tread on the giant big toes (even at the expense of trampling underfoot the medium-size toes brought in from out of town).
Let's proceed by checklist...Authors? Check. The inimitable Salman Rushdie, check, the adorable Booker-Prize winner Kiran Desai, check. The man behind Maximum City, that is, Suketu Mehta, check. Powerhouse Shashi Deshpande, Mumbai-based Kiran Nagarkar, the gorgeous Pakistani author Feryal Ali Gauhar, the intellectual Amit Chaudhari, the eternal adolescent Jerry Pinto, check check check all.
Publishers? Check. From the redoubtable Urvashi Butalia of Zubaan, to Ritu Menon of Women's Unlimited, to the mighty force of Penguin, well-represented by Ravi Singh and Hemali Sodhi...
Literary agents? Check... Celebrity agent David Godwin whose author list is like a who's who (Arundhati Roy, Kiran Desai, Will Dalrymple)was there too, and he's disarmingly affable, just for the record!
Foreigners, from tourists to journalists, to friends of the organisers (the Literary Festival was part of the week-long Virasat Foundation Heritage Festival, the brainchild of Faith Singh of Anokhi fame), to groups like Holiwater who put up an impressive multimedia ode to water performance, to French publisher Marc Parent, to almost-Indian William Dalrymple, to foreign tourists, to the location itself - glorious, money-spinning Jaipur...the stage really was set for a literary festival.
But the problem - as various grumbling journalists pointed out -was that there was too much fest, and too little literary. It was a platform for people to listen to authors read from their books, to buy said books at the adjacent stall (that did brisk business), to even get said books signed by authors!
You could attend various parties - even if you weren't invited, hey, it was a pay your way deal - you could mill around and grumble about the coffee machine's moods, the strangely insipid food, and maybe even the eternal tourist fascination with Jaipur and Rajasthan and royalty in general.
Was it a platform for debate? Not really, except maybe for said grumbling journalists, many of whom were peeved that Salman Rushdie did not see fit to grace any but a select few with an interview (also there were murmurs of a promise that he would not violate a code of exclusivity). But surely Salman Rushdie can be forgiven for not wanting to talk to any but a select few, you say?! Nevertheless, not the level of debate one would have hoped for.
But having said that, and trying to ignore the various pitfalls and hurdles placed in one's way, and not alluding to the feeling that something was not quite right, what were the surprises of the fest?
Well, when Mr Rushdie finally did met the press, on Sunday, I was pleasantly surprised to find that he has a very ready sense of humour. Oh sure, you find humour in his books, but that he laughs lightly and easily, that he thinks quick on his feet, that his barbs are suitably sarcastic to be missed altogether sometimes, that he appears not to take himself TOO seriously (appearance is all!), that he is erudite and funny and even charismatic --- all at one stroke you can see why he can afford to be picky and choosy and diva-like with the press!
Kiran Desai is charming, of course, and getting increasingly used to the rough-and-tumble of the promotional world that she now inhabits, and refreshingly articulate on issues thrown at her. Suketu Mehta is also a composed interviewee, maybe legacy of his being a journalist himself.
Charming that Desai and Mehta live in the same neighbourhood back in New York, that they seemed to get along really well, and seemed to be enjoying the event (despite at times being stalked and followed even on their toilet breaks!).
Charming too that the schoolkids present weren't the only ones thronging them for autographs; I got in line for Salman Rushdie's in the hope of getting that elusive interview, but hey at least I got the autograph right?!
Charming, that all's well that ends well. Till the next one that is. Coming up, after a short break, that's the Kitab Fest in Mumbai, and the stage is set for yet another literary affair...About the AuthorAmrita Tripathi Amrita Tripathi is a news anchor with CNN-IBN, and also doubles up as Health and Books Editor. An MA in Philosophy from St Stephen's College, Delhi Un...Read Morefirst published:January 23, 2007, 13:25 ISTlast updated:January 23, 2007, 13:25 IST
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What's the point of a literary festival? Ostensibly it's a meeting ground for authors and publishing moguls and intellectuals, and let's not forget, their fans and...the media.
Ah, the media. Nicely lambasted at this latest literary festival in Jaipur, slightly grilled by the wit that Salman Rushdie never leaves home without, and royally skewered by the organisers' perception that it's better not to tread on too many toes, or rather not to tread on the giant big toes (even at the expense of trampling underfoot the medium-size toes brought in from out of town).
Let's proceed by checklist...Authors? Check. The inimitable Salman Rushdie, check, the adorable Booker-Prize winner Kiran Desai, check. The man behind Maximum City, that is, Suketu Mehta, check. Powerhouse Shashi Deshpande, Mumbai-based Kiran Nagarkar, the gorgeous Pakistani author Feryal Ali Gauhar, the intellectual Amit Chaudhari, the eternal adolescent Jerry Pinto, check check check all.
Publishers? Check. From the redoubtable Urvashi Butalia of Zubaan, to Ritu Menon of Women's Unlimited, to the mighty force of Penguin, well-represented by Ravi Singh and Hemali Sodhi...
Literary agents? Check... Celebrity agent David Godwin whose author list is like a who's who (Arundhati Roy, Kiran Desai, Will Dalrymple)was there too, and he's disarmingly affable, just for the record!
Foreigners, from tourists to journalists, to friends of the organisers (the Literary Festival was part of the week-long Virasat Foundation Heritage Festival, the brainchild of Faith Singh of Anokhi fame), to groups like Holiwater who put up an impressive multimedia ode to water performance, to French publisher Marc Parent, to almost-Indian William Dalrymple, to foreign tourists, to the location itself - glorious, money-spinning Jaipur...the stage really was set for a literary festival.
But the problem - as various grumbling journalists pointed out -was that there was too much fest, and too little literary. It was a platform for people to listen to authors read from their books, to buy said books at the adjacent stall (that did brisk business), to even get said books signed by authors!
You could attend various parties - even if you weren't invited, hey, it was a pay your way deal - you could mill around and grumble about the coffee machine's moods, the strangely insipid food, and maybe even the eternal tourist fascination with Jaipur and Rajasthan and royalty in general.
Was it a platform for debate? Not really, except maybe for said grumbling journalists, many of whom were peeved that Salman Rushdie did not see fit to grace any but a select few with an interview (also there were murmurs of a promise that he would not violate a code of exclusivity). But surely Salman Rushdie can be forgiven for not wanting to talk to any but a select few, you say?! Nevertheless, not the level of debate one would have hoped for.
But having said that, and trying to ignore the various pitfalls and hurdles placed in one's way, and not alluding to the feeling that something was not quite right, what were the surprises of the fest?
Well, when Mr Rushdie finally did met the press, on Sunday, I was pleasantly surprised to find that he has a very ready sense of humour. Oh sure, you find humour in his books, but that he laughs lightly and easily, that he thinks quick on his feet, that his barbs are suitably sarcastic to be missed altogether sometimes, that he appears not to take himself TOO seriously (appearance is all!), that he is erudite and funny and even charismatic --- all at one stroke you can see why he can afford to be picky and choosy and diva-like with the press!
Kiran Desai is charming, of course, and getting increasingly used to the rough-and-tumble of the promotional world that she now inhabits, and refreshingly articulate on issues thrown at her. Suketu Mehta is also a composed interviewee, maybe legacy of his being a journalist himself.
Charming that Desai and Mehta live in the same neighbourhood back in New York, that they seemed to get along really well, and seemed to be enjoying the event (despite at times being stalked and followed even on their toilet breaks!).
Charming too that the schoolkids present weren't the only ones thronging them for autographs; I got in line for Salman Rushdie's in the hope of getting that elusive interview, but hey at least I got the autograph right?!
Charming, that all's well that ends well. Till the next one that is. Coming up, after a short break, that's the Kitab Fest in Mumbai, and the stage is set for yet another literary affair...
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